To Enter the Force
by ForgottenMoonbeam92
Summary: After the events of RotJ, Anakin Skywalker enters the Force, but it is not as welcoming as he had always been taught. It will require repentance, heartache, and tears before it will allow him rest. But he is not left alone....
1. Sidious

I'd done a version of this idea before...I might put it up, just so you can compare the two, see which you like better. But I like the idea of this one. I almost feel like we missed out on part of Anakin's story when we didn't get to see his reunion with all he loved in RotJ, but hey. Can't have everything.

Let me know how you like it!

I don't own anything...it's all George Lucas.

**

* * *

**

Sidious

He had never been afraid. Angry, yes. Furious, yes. Embarrassed, ashamed, irritated. Cheerful. Exultant. A whole range of emotions Jedi were never supposed to feel. But never afraid. Until now. Now he was terrified.

He was alone. Wandering for what already felt like forever in complete and total darkness. His breathing was labored, and his entire body ached. He pushed himself onward, unwilling to sit and rest, mostly because there was nothing to sit on. Strange noises permeated occasionally out of the darkness, making him shudder and set to peering once again through the pitch, straining to see nothing and everything.

He wondered: was this his eternal punishment? To wander forever, afraid and alone, in darkness? He supposed, somewhere in his lucid mind, that he deserved it. He felt guilty, ashamed at the part of him that wanted so much more. There was a part of him that was screaming for forgiveness, for the light and to be held again in love and friendship. He had missed it more than he had ever thought possible in the long twenty years as Sith Lord.

He stumbled against something and dropped to his knees, clutching for the object. It was the first sign of something inhabiting this sphere other than himself, and he was panting, scrambling to find it, to cling to it, to never let it go….he recoiled as his fingers touched wrinkled, melted skin and coarse, rough cloth. He rocked back on his heels, the blood pounding in his ears.

"Hello?" he finally voiced. It was the first time he had attempted speech for hours, days, weeks, maybe.

"Lord Vader."

_NO! _

He staggered to his feet, horrified, shuddering, head swinging back and forth, trying to pinpoint the voice. Cold fingers brushed his arm, and he flung himself back, a scream ripping from his throat.

"No!"

"My boy." the voice was old and feeble, but underlain with a menace that set his hair on end and constricted his heart.

"You're dead. I killed you myself. I killed you." he was babbling, praying, denying it all, but still the voice from the chilling darkness.

"As are you, my boy. We die together, as we lived. We will exist together, for eternity, here in the Force. Come to me, Lord Vader. Find rest in the darkness."

"I won't. I can't. You…you have no power here. The Force…"  
"We _are _the Force, Darth Vader. We have all power." A low, hoarse, cold laugh. A hand closed on his wrist, and he pulled free, stumbling back, horrified, his mouth working. Was it possible? Was this his fate? To spend eternity with the demon who had haunted him for the past twenty years?

"That's not possible." The words came strong, and he both surprised and strengthened himself with them. "This isn't possible. I will not stay here, with you. I will not!"

"You have little choice in the matter, Lord Vader." A faint, agonized scream in the distance, a chill of wind. He felt despair return, and his knees buckled. A presence in front of him, a wrinkled, sickening, soft hand on his head. "Together, we will remember. Together we will…"

He jerked away. No. There had to be a way out. There had to be a way_. Please! Help me. Force, help me. Don't let him have me! _

"Lord Vader."

"My name is not Vader!" He stood again, and it was an excruciating effort, but somehow he was standing, facing the menace. "My name is Anakin Skywalker. And you have no power over me."

It was as if the light had suddenly broken through. The demon shrieked, and he could sense it more than see as it writhed, twisting, fading away as if it had never been. The darkness was receding, brightening, swirling all around him as if it too was in pain, desperate to get away from that name. Or was it just _there?_ He strained to see, and then suddenly shrank back, squeezed his eyes shut against the brilliance. But then he was opening them again, shielding his eyes with a hand, desperate to drink in the warmth and light but unable to bear the light.

And then a hand closed on his wrist, but it was warm and firm and he felt the warmth envelop him, and gasped with the relief. He blinked up into the face that seemed so far above him and realized that he was down on his knees again. Tears obscured his vision as recognition came.

Review! TBC...


	2. QuiGon

See first chapter for disclaimer...

* * *

**_Qui-Gon Jinn_**

"Master Qui-Gon."

"Anakin. Welcome."

The voice was as he remembered. Deep, resonating, reassuring. It was achingly familiar, though he hadn't heard it in over thirty years. The light was enveloping him now, dispelling the darkness on all sides, emanating from the tall, broad-shouldered man who still grasped him by the arm. There was a gentle pull, and Anakin stood effortlessly, buoyed by the strength of his former Master.

"Master, I am so terribly sorry…" he couldn't go on. Nor could he look the Jedi in the face. He felt bitter, ashamed, sick at heart, and still horribly afraid of the darkness that had so nearly claimed him. And would it still? Even now, he did not feel that he had a chance to live with this light, with this warmth. It was impossible. Not with what he had done.

"I know."

A hand touched his chin, and he raised his eyes unwillingly to meet the warm green ones of Qui-Gon Jinn. The love he saw there made his pulse quicken, and a glimmer of hope touch the fear in his chest.

"I've done so much wrong, Master. I can never, ever repay what I've done."

"You have brought balance to the Force, Anakin. You have renounced your ways, and that is the first step. The road to repentance will be hard, young one. But that is why I am here."

And the darkness returned, swirling around him and compressing his chest and limbs and face, pulling at him, begging him, threatening him, and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. He was drowning, sinking, writhing, but then the darkness disappeared once more and he stood on the broad bank of a flowing river, gasping in huge lungfuls of air. Qui-Gon stood next to him, looking out across the great river, sadness etched in the lines of his leonine face.

"There is your work, Anakin," he said softly.

Anakin turned to face across the river as well and his breath caught painfully in his throat. He was looking at the Temple, the great white structure in flames and crumbling, cracking, scorched. And then he was staring inside, at the dozens of Jedi, stricken and white on the floor. The younglings, slaughtered in the Council room. The apprentices and Masters, dead side by side. The healers in the ward. Destruction. Death. Mace Windu. Ki-Adi-Mundi. Adi Gallia. Aayla Secura.

And it was all his doing.

"Master…" he croaked. Tears poured down his cheeks. Qui-Gon looked over at him sadly, but said nothing. And now he was staring across at the Separatists, the control room full of their dissected bodies and faces twisted in expressions of shock and horror. He looked away, knowing what was coming next. Qui-Gon's hand fell on his shoulder.

"Anakin. You must look. You must see."

"I…." but he could think of no argument. He turned eyes back across the river and Padme was before him, beautiful face tear-streaked and anguished, full of pain and sorrow. She reached for him but then she was grasping her throat, panicked, struggling for air, and then she fell. Anakin took a step toward her, stumbling down the bank toward the river, desperate to reclaim her, ears full of her screams. Qui-Gon's hands stopped him before he reached the river, pulling him back, unrelenting in their restraint.

"No! Padme! Master, please, I must tell her, I must see her, please, Padme!"

"Anakin, you cannot cross," Qui-Gon was telling him, deep voice soft in his ear, sympathetic but firm. "You cannot cross the river. What has happened cannot be changed."

Anakin ceased his struggles as Qui-Gon pulled and supported him back up the slope. He was suddenly exhausted, and made no move to wipe his face of the tears that streaked his cheeks. He was silent for a long moment, feeling with relish the shame and pain and heartache, deserving it, wanting it. He watched as his life was chronicled, watched as his reign as Darth Vader intensified and became more brutal. He saw the countless other beings he had murdered or had killed, and felt their pain mingle with his.

"Master," he finally said, his voice hoarse. "What is the river?"  
"Time," Qui-Gon answered simply. "It separates memories from reality."  
"What is my reality?"

"What you make of it."

Anakin rubbed a hand across his face and swallowed. "What else must I see?"

Qui-Gon did not answer, but turned to stare back across the river. Anakin followed his gaze and saw himself. The image of his own face staring back at him would haunt him forever, he felt. It was stab to his heart, a blow to his head, a strike to his very soul. The eyes staring back at him were ringed red, tinged yellow, and full of hate and anger. The Darkness stared out of them, sending chills up and down his spine and horror to his very being. As the face twisted, shouted terrible, hateful words and the darkness surged, laughing, Anakin shuddered, feeling dizzy and nauseated, and he collapsed, retching and shaking.

Qui-Gon knelt beside him, and an arm supported him, holding him close. "Anakin. That is the past. It is a memory. You have changed."

"But that doesn't change what I was," Anakin whispered. "It doesn't change what I've done."

"No, it doesn't," Qui-Gon returned. "But you _have_ been forgiven. All of those Jedi are one with the Force, Anakin. You will have your chance to speak with all of them, and you will find that they have forgiven you long ago. Now. Stand. It is time to go."

Review! TBC...


	3. Shmi

Third chapter! Hooray! I'm thinking there will be four more after this one. I've got them all planned out, but if anyone wants to see anyone specific, go ahead and request them. Thanks to those who requested already, and to those who reviewed! It makes me ridiculously happy. :)

See first chapter for disclaimer!

* * *

**Shmi**

Away from the river, his breath came easier. The tragedy of what he had witnessed—what he had caused, had made him feel lightheaded and ill. Anakin rubbed a hand across his forehead, and Qui-Gon laid a hand on the small of his back.

"My job is done," he said. "I am sorry that it had to be so difficult."  
Anakin shook his head and offered a hand. "I am sorry you had to do it."

Qui-Gon ignored the hand and drew him into a hug instead. Anakin returned it, a little surprised, but grateful for the strength and light he felt from the older man.

"You will be met by others, now," Qui-Gon said. "I will see you again."

And he was gone. Anakin blinked, and the sudden absence of the powerful Force presence brought back memories of the darkness. He closed his eyes tightly and reached tentatively inside him. He withdrew before touching the furnace of power that had always been inside, afraid to know how much he had changed. Or _if _he had changed.

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him around. He didn't know who he was expecting, but seeing _her_ sent a thrill of joy and shock through his body. She smiled, that familiar, close-lipped smile that meant she was trying not to cry. His hand reached toward her face involuntarily and cupped her cheek; she leaned into it, and one of her hands came up to close over his. Her eyes closed, and a tear trailed down her cheek before she opened them again to search his face hungrily.

"I've missed you so," she whispered. "My little boy. My Ani."

His voice caught, and he drew her into his embrace, feeling tears come again. For a moment he couldn't speak, but only buried his face in her shoulder as if he were a little child again. He was so much taller than she, but the feelings were the same. She was comfort, security, and warmth. She was happiness and long talks and hugs and good food and soft humming. She was home.

Finally he pulled back, staring at her face, the tears gone. She was smiling widely now, proudly, beaming up at him as she reached up to touch his face. Her warm, blue-grey eyes so like his own sparkled.

"You're so handsome, Ani."

"Mom," he said. "I couldn't save you."

A flicker of an old pain passed across her face, but it was gone so quickly he wasn't sure he had seen it. "Save, Anakin?"

"The Raiders, all those years ago. I tried to save you, but I couldn't. I was too slow, I…"

Shmi put a gentle finger to his lips. "Ani. No, you couldn't save me. But after all, what does that matter?" When he tried to protest, she shook her head and spoke over him, in that chiding, teaching voice he had heard so many times. "Ani, you can't save everyone. Not everyone is meant to be saved. Did those Jedi teach you nothing?" A teasing smile. "The will of the Force is not always yours, Ani. You must accept that, learn from it. What else can you do?"  
Before now, his response would have been quick, sharp, demanding. Now, he only shrugged his shoulders helplessly and dropped his eyes. "I only wish I could have helped you before it was too late."

"It is never too late, Anakin," Shmi said. "Now you can help me. Now is your time. Then was too early. You have always been impatient."

"I know," Anakin said. And then what she had said registered. _"Now _I can help you? What can I do now?"

Her face lost a little of its happiness, and she took him by the arm. "Anakin, a mother's greatest wish is to see her child happy and safe," she said earnestly. "My greatest wish is to see you strong and whole, and full of the joy that you had as a little boy. I have watched you struggle and grow, and it has hurt me so to see you in pain. Ani." She touched his chin, smoothing his cheek with her thumb. "You can help me by saving yourself. It is not me who needs to be saved. I have never needed to be saved. My death was a test for you. Our parting was a test for you. It has always been about you. That is what being a mother is."

He struggled for words, but she seemed to understand. She hugged him again, holding him tightly against her. "My time is gone," she whispered in his ear. "Others need to see you. But I will see you again. Come to me soon." She brushed his hair out of his face and smiled one last time. "I have such faith in you. I love you, Ani."

"I love you, Mom," he returned.

"And Anakin."

"Yes."

A brief, sparkling grin. "I already love those grandchildren of mine. And my daughter-in-law is a perfectly lovely girl."

Anakin returned the grin, feeling a disconcerting mixture of emotions at the mention of Padme.

"I know."

And then she was gone. This time, Anakin did not feel the darkness return. There was only emptiness now, the familiar hole that Qui-Gon and Shmi had filled for so short a time. He was now ensconced in a pale, soft, misty light. A far cry from the oppressive darkness; it felt peaceful and calm, but there was no welcome, no warmth, no emotion.

He did not think to sit, or to rest. He instead began to walk. He felt no fear, only an uneasiness that did not come from his surroundings, but rather from inside himself. A part of him was confident, buoyed by the visits from Qui-Gon and his mother. The larger part of him was restless and tormented with what he had seen across the river. He did not deserve the Force. He did not deserve happiness. Not after he had taken it from so many others. But Shmi's words continued to run through his mind, and he wondered tentatively whether they did not apply to all he had hurt.

_"Now you can help me. Now is your time."_

And then light.

Review! TBC...


	4. The Masters

I'm not so fond of this chapter, but that's ok, since the people he meets aren't _as _important as others. I'm not saying they're not important, but...hey. Why am I defending myself? And yes, I know I should take equal care in everything I write, but right now I'm incredibly sleep deprived. Maybe I'll redo this one later, when I actually have a few brain cells.

Chapter One for disclaimer.

* * *

**The Masters**

Eager but afraid, Anakin closed his eyes. He was anticipating…who? Even as he took a deep breath, willing himself to look, he wasn't sure. The sheer _white _of the light behind his eyelids indicated, he thought, someone so centered in the Living Force that should he perhaps kneel? Defer how to such a powerful being? Or maybe, if it was who he was hoping, praying for, then he should take her in his arms and never let her go…

But then, that would be just a little bit awkward, considering who was standing before him. And so he decided to take option 'A'.

He knelt.

"Master Yoda. Master Windu." He kept his head down, eyes fixed on the ground. His heart was thudding rather uncomfortably in his chest, and he wished one of them would speak so that it would quiet. After what seemed an age, Mace Windu's voice reached him.

"Anakin Skywalker. Stand, boy."

The breath he was not aware he had been holding hissed out as he stood, and he met Windu's dark brown gaze. The Jedi looked as solemn as he had in life, but there was a sparkle behind his eyes that had been missing ever since the Clone Wars had begun. He looked larger, were it possible, than he had in life, and his dark skin seemed to gleam with the light of the Force.

"Master, I cannot express…how…sorry I am," Anakin said, faltering on the words, feeling as if he were ten years old and meeting Windu for the first time. "It was my actions that killed you, and I have never forgiven myself…"

"If you cannot forgive yourself, then you will not obtain mine," Windu said. His characteristic bluntness was surprisingly refreshing, and Anakin nodded quickly.

"I didn't expect so."

"But I am more than willing to grant my forgiveness when you have released yourself from your guilt."

"Yes, Master."

"Forgive yourself, you will," Master Yoda said, and Anakin's heart ached at the familiar gravelly tones. He had missed the Jedi more than he had ever thought he would. Even Master Yoda's sayings and advice and knobby gimer stick and Windu's stern, unrelenting countenance and devotion to the old ways.

But after all, he thought wryly, he did have eternity with them.

"If allow yourself, you will," Master Yoda finished. Anakin nodded.

"It will take me some time, Master Yoda."

"Time you have plenty of," Windu said. "But we do not. Our time is limited. And so, a word of advice, young Skywalker."

"Yes, Master."

"You have come a long way from your time among the living. You have thrown aside the darkness and embraced the light, but it has not embraced you. You are still shadowed in darkness, and though all you see is light, you can not truly _be _light until you have forgiven yourself and all others."

"I have forgiven, well, everyone, Master," Anakin said hastily. He was still cringing inside at the thought that he still had darkness clinging to him, and he shivered, feeling dirty and contaminated. "After all, it was not they who really wronged me, but I who wronged them."

As he said the words he felt their truth, and another shiver swept his body, but it left him feeling as if he had shaken off a little of the weight still burdening his shoulders. Windu gave him a rare smile.

"Yourself, another matter is," Yoda said.

"Yes, Master."  
"Take time, it will," Yoda said. "Shed the guilt, you must. Shed the shame, you must. Give it to the Force, you must. Waiting, it is, to take them from you. Only ask, must you."

"Yes, Master."

"Say the words you do, but agree with them you do not," Master Yoda said shrewdly, fixing Anakin in a piercing gaze. Anakin smiled ruefully. Yoda could still see right through him.

"No, Master. I know I must let my guilt and regrets go, but I don't how I can. I have done so much wrong."

"Perhaps help you, this will," Yoda said. "Go, Master Windu and I must. But brought others, we have."

He and Windu began to fade, but Anakin stretched out a hand. "Wait, Masters. Has not…why hasn't…is he…what I mean, is, Master Qui-Gon said that everyone has forgiven me. Is that true?" He wasn't sure he had made sense; in fact, he was positive he hadn't. But he had thought that _he _would have been one of the first to welcome home a wayward apprentice. Perhaps Anakin's faults had been too much? But Yoda understood.

"Find you, Obi-Wan will," he said. "Not his time, is it. See him for yourself, you will, if strong enough, you are."

"I don't know if I am."

"Then you are not," Windu said quietly. "He will wait until you are ready."

Anakin dropped his hand, his throat constricting. "Yes, Master."

"May the Force be with you, Anakin."

Anakin nearly laughed. Did they still use that phrase, here, where they _were _the Force? But he reveled in the familiarity of it, and replied in kind.

"And you, Masters."

They vanished, but the light lingered. It was softer now, more peaceful, but just as enveloping and warming as the presence of the two Masters had been. _Padme? _

But no. He was surrounded by a dozen young, strong Jedi, and he recognized none of them. Before he could collect this scattered thoughts, the one directly in front of him spoke.

"Anakin Skywalker."

"Yes? I'm sorry. I don't recognize you." But he did. It came to him, suddenly, and he swallowed. The young man smiled at him, and the wide blue eyes were as childlike and open as they had been all those years ago. "The younglings," he whispered.

"Not so young, now," another said.

"I slaughtered you."

The youngling in front of him waved a hand. "That's not important. Not here."

"But you might still be alive. You might have escaped, lived, or at least been spared being killed by someone you looked up to had I not…"

"We've forgiven and forgotten," a young woman said, and she laid a hand on his arm gently. "Why can't you?"

It was such a simple question, and Anakin had no answer. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know."

"Think about it, won't you?" the boy youngling said. "Once you answer that, your problems might be solved." He lifted a hand in farewell, and they were gone.

But their light stayed, and its brightness illuminated some of Anakin's darkness.

Review! TBC...


	5. Padme

It's been longer than I expected, getting this chapter up. My parents have been out of country for a few weeks, and what with being in charge of six younger siblings (including a six-month-old and a two-year-old terror), my time has been limited. But this is one several of you have been looking forward to. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you know how much I appreciate it and how much it inspires me to keep going with this!

I hope I captured the spirit of this chapter and of this reunion. It's a little different, cause I decided to do Padme's POV instead of Anakin's. But I typed the first sentence, and it just kind of fit, so I kept it. In this one, and then next two chapters, I hope Anakin's development will be realistic enough, and not go too fast for how I've portrayed him.

Enjoy!

_**Padme**_

She had been watching him. For twenty years she had watched him. She had tried to touch him so very many times, but there had never been any sign that he had noticed. He had caged himself in bars of bitterness and guilt so thick and strong that even she had been unable to bend them. Of course, she was dead, and her death had been the key thrown away. Now, the bars were still up, but the door was wide open. He was free, but he didn't realize it. He faced the back of the cage, unaware that he was free to escape, and unwilling to turn around. So far, he had been gently prodded and encouraged to turn and recognize his liberation; she planned to be the slap in the face that he needed.

And Force knew just how badly he needed it.

Padme wrapped her arms around herself, content to watch him for just a moment more. She let a smile wreathe her face, drinking in the sight of him whole and healthy. She sighed. Healthy in body, at any rate. His mind was another story.

As if he heard her sigh, his head turned in her direction. As his striking blue eyes met hers, the look on his face nearly made her laugh out loud. For a moment he was a little boy again.

_"Are you an angel?" _

But the look was gone as soon as it had come, and his face looked old and sick. His shoulders hunched in tension, and his eyes sparkled with tears.

"Oh, that's a reception for you," she said lightly. At the sound of her voice, he flinched, but something in his face brightened just a little bit. He had been expecting her to be angry or disappointed, she realized, and it the realization hurt.

_What did you do to yourself, Ani? _

"I've met your mother. She's a beautiful woman."

"Yes, she is." A pause. "She told me she's seen you."

"We're good friends."

"I'm glad."

Padme waited, but he still did not reach for her, or initiate another line of conversation. Just like a man. She gave him another few seconds, and then folded her arms.

"Anakin Skywalker, is this how excited you are to see me?"

The little boy horror flashed across his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She fixed him with the look that had always stopped him in his tracks, and he shuffled uncomfortably. "You know exactly what I mean. Maybe next time you can do it right."  
She turned on her heel to leave, but had only gone a few steps when Anakin's panicked voice called her back. She grinned.

"Padme!"

She did not turn. He was going to make the first move this time. Soft footsteps behind her, and then a gentle hand on her shoulder was turning her around again. She gazed up at him, allowing him a smile.

"I wasn't sure you were real. I…I've seen you so much in my dreams that I thought…I thought you were another vision. And I didn't know if you would want to see me." He was looking at her with such penitence, such fear, but such love that she closed her eyes, determined that she would never see him this broken again.

"I will always want to see you."

"Then you've forgiven me?" His breath was a whisper on her cheeks.

"A thousand times over."

His hand brushed hers, and she took it, linking their fingers together. She opened her eyes briefly, met his eyes again, and then his arms drew her close, pulling her into a fierce embrace. She buried her face in his chest, drinking in his familiar scent, feeling lighter than she had since she had lost him so long ago.

"How did I deserve you?" she heard him murmur against her hair. "How _do _I deserve you?"

"I'm not even going to answer that, Anakin Skywalker."

His chest vibrated in a little laugh, and he kissed the top of her head. "I've missed you so much, Padme. I will never, ever, hurt you again. I swear that to you."

"I know."

She pulled back and looked up at him, and reached up to touch his face. His arms, still around her, applied gentle pressure, and she melted willingly into his kiss.

Several breathless, beautiful moments later, she pulled back with a small sigh. Anakin pulled her in close again, and they stood for another few minutes, silent, both of them knowing that they didn't have much time left.

"Will you come back?" Anakin asked finally.

Padme slapped him on the chest. "Do you need to ask?"

Anakin gazed down at her, eyes sparkling. "I had to make sure."

"As long as you want me, I'll be here."

"Then don't leave."

Padme squeezed his hand. "I'll come back. I promise. You won't be alone, Ani. You'll never be alone."

"How long?"

She hesitated. "I can't come back until you've forgiven yourself, Ani. None of us can."

His jaw dropped, and his eyes searched her face desperately. "Why not?"

"Anakin…" she hated the hurt in his eyes, the disbelief. "You're being selfish, you know. Here, where we are, nothing is about you. You refusing to forgive yourself is all about you. You cling to feelings that center on you, and not on others. You cannot enter the Force until it is all about someone else."

Her words were harsh, but she did not soften them. She saw them a like a blow in his eyes before he dropped them from her face. She could see his mind working, turning over this new concept, and she waited with bated breath. Would he turn now, finally, and see his freedom waiting for him?

When he finally met her eyes again, they were a little clearer, a little brighter. "I understand," he whispered. "And I think I can. I really think I can, Padme. But I need you. I'm so much better already, with you here. Can't you…"

She put a finger to his lips. "No, Ani, I can't. My time is over. Don't give up on yourself, my love. I'll be waiting."

He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her again, his touch desperate and longing. She returned the kiss, but then broke away gently, squeezed his hand once more, and pulled away. His arm came up as if to stop her, but then dropped limply back to his side.

"I love you," he said. "Hurry back."

"I will come as fast as you will let me," she said. "Call me back soon, Ani. I love you."

Anakin watched her vanish, but even with her gone he felt her in his arms, could feel her touch on his skin.

_"Call me back soon." _

"Padme," he whispered.

_"Call me back…" _

He wheeled and began to run. Physical activity had always been his answer to stress, to sorrow, to anger. Now was no different. As he ran, his mind played her words. _"Call me back…I love you…you're being selfish…all about you…I love you…call me back…"_

He slowed to a stop. She loved him still. She had forgiven him. She wanted him. The thought came suddenly into his head, but it was her voice that spoke.

_"Do you love your guilt more than you love me?" _

Half-expecting to see her materialize out of the hazy surroundings, he whipped around, searching. She was nowhere to be seen, and the half of them that had been hoping fell in disappointment. The words remained, echoing in his mind and heart.

_"Call me…" _

Again, he searched through the mist, because the voice that had spoken in his thoughts was not his own. But nor had it been Padme's. His heart began to pound furiously, and he squeezed his eyes shut, lifting a hand to massage his forehead. His voice quavered as he spoke, barely loud enough to hear himself.

"Obi-Wan?"

Review, please! TBC…


	6. ObiWan

All right. Here's the chapter that most of you have been waiting for. I've been waiting for it too, but even as I post this I wonder if I captured exactly what I wanted to. I think there's always more that could be said and written, but that's for a longer one-shot later, maybe. I'll have to see what I can do. But for now, here it is.

Thanks for all of your reviews and patience! I'm thinking there will be one more chapter after this, but it may turn into two. I'm not sure yet. At any rate, we are definitely nearing the end.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Obi-Wan**

_"Obi-Wan?" _

The man closed azure eyes, and he let out a long, low breath. His brow crinkled, and it looked almost as if he were about to cry, but when he opened his eyes they were clear and dry. There was nothing holding him back, now, he thought. Nothing but his own apprehension.

"But after all, he called you."

He nodded without turning around. "I know, Master."

Qui-Gon did not press, but placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and applied a comforting pressure. "When you are ready."

Silence for a long moment. And then he squared his shoulders, eyes fixed on a point far on the distant horizon, and took a single step forward.

--

Anakin felt the bitter disappointment like a blow to the stomach. He had been imagining things, then. He stood quite still, fists clenched at his sides, fighting the lump in his throat. He was tired of crying. He felt exhausted, sick at heart, as if the hope that had so recently blossomed in his chest was fading away, consumed by the disappointment. He shuffled his feet and circled once more, expecting nothing, seeing no one.

He shut his eyes tightly. "Where do I go from here?" he asked softly. "What now?"

There was no answer. He began to walk aimlessly, thoughts pressing in around him like noxious fumes.

_He isn't coming. Not after what I've done to him. He's angry. Disappointed. I was never good enough…I never appreciated him enough. I called, but he didn't come. He no longer loves me. He said he did. His last words. His last words told you just how much he loved you. And you didn't listen. I didn't listen. I never listened. Anakin, you fool, you stupid fool. Anakin…_

"Anakin."

His heart stopped. His breath caught in his chest. He wondered for a brief moment if he was imagining the voice, but the sudden warmth, light, and peace that were chasing away the darkness of his thoughts were no dream. A shiver ran up and down his spine. He turned, sobbed once, and then Obi-Wan was gripping his shoulders, pulling him close, holding him so tightly that his breath was crushed from his lungs.

And just for that moment, he had never been happier.

He was home. Obi-Wan was home. Home was the rainy, earthy smell that was Obi-Wan. Home was that crooked smile and mischievous glint in brilliant blue eyes that meant they were about to do something incredibly stupid or dangerous. Home was the sarcasm in the Coruscanti accent that emerged when they were both exhausted. Home was the strong, gentle hands and the exultant laughter and the encouragement and love that had always been Obi-Wan.

He hadn't changed. As Anakin drew back, Obi-Wan looked exactly as he had in Anakin's memories. He was a few inches shorter than Anakin himself, still lithe and strong. His hair was still that auburn-brown color streaked with gray about the temples. There were still those laughter wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and still that penetrating stare and the slight lift of one eyebrow.

"You look like you haven't changed much."

Anakin shrugged. "I was about to say the same for you."

That crooked smile. "I meant it as a compliment."

It took a moment to process this, but the dry, sarcastic sense of humor was so familiar that he found himself shaking his head, a reluctant smile crawling up his face. But before, where he might have returned with a clever jab, now he only said, "So did I. You look as if I never hurt you."

"Well, I could say the same for you. I must say, you look much better without the cape and mask."

"Must I remind you that you put them there in the first place?"  
"Well, perhaps they did have their advantages. Not so cheeky with them on."

"I was too busy being intimidating."

"Did it work? I didn't notice."

"Old age had blinded you."

Obi-Wan laughed and gripped Anakin's shoulder. "It is good to have you back, Anakin. I have missed you. So very much. And I am sorry for giving you the cape and mask. In all seriousness, I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you that way."

"It was nothing to what I did to you," Anakin said. "I'm sorry."

"So you forgive me, then?"  
"Yes, of course…"

"And I forgive you for everything. And there we are. That's behind us."

Anakin stared, nonplussed. "That's it?"  
Obi-Wan threw up his hands. "What more do you want?"

"I spent twenty years of guilt for it all to be over in less than sixty seconds?"  
"Unless you want to spend twenty years apologizing. Feel free. But you'll be on your own. I'm certainly not going to listen." The quick grin again. But then it faded into a more serious look, and the azure eyes searched Anakin's face with an almost yearning look.

"I had thought never to see you like this again," he said quietly. "What I did back on Mustafar haunted me as much as it haunted you, Anakin. I spent twenty sleepless years the same way you did. I didn't have the heart to kill you, and so I left you burning instead. I spent twenty years regretting that."

"At least I had the decency to make your death painless." Anakin kept his face serious, and he was worried for a moment that Obi-Wan had taken the statement literally. But then the grin broke out like dawn on Obi-Wan's face, and Anakin knew that Obi-Wan remembered Anakin's sense of humor as well as he had remembered Obi-Wan's.

"Only because I allowed you to kill me."

"That's what you say."

"And what you know to be true."

It was a rather morbid topic to laugh about, Anakin knew, but he had had so little to laugh about recently. He was teasing and joking and grinning as he hadn't in twenty years…as he looked at Obi-Wan, taking in every detail, every lost moment between them, he knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the same way.

They moved as one, falling into step beside each other. The gesture was so familiar, and so comfortable, that it felt to Anakin that he had fallen into the past.

"So, you have seen Padme?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes. She's forgiven me too."

"Well, of course. What did you expect? And you've spoken with your mother?"

"Yes."

"I understand, after meeting her, why you missed her so."

"Master Yoda and Master Windu too. And Master Qui-Gon."

"Hmmm, yes, he told me he was going to greet you. I'm sorry I didn't." Obi-Wan paused, and then said, "I was afraid."

This stopped Anakin in his tracks. "You were afraid? Of what?"

Obi-Wan stopped too, looking a little apologetic and sheepish. "Of you. Of our past. Of how in Force's name we were going to put everything behind us. It was easier than I had expected."

Anakin nodded, but did not reply. Obi-Wan eyed him knowingly, and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he broke off, cocked his head slightly to one side as if listening, and then grasped Anakin's upper arm. "It's time. Quickly!"

"What..." But there was no time to question. They were gone.

Review, please! TBC...


	7. The Return of the Jedi

This is the last chapter. I apologize that it's taken me this long to get it up…my school started up this last week, and so I've been trying to adjust to early mornings, homework, and a social life again. But here it is. Thanks so much for reviewing, all of you! Virtual hugs and chocolate from me.

A word on the title of this chapter…it came in an epiphany one day. Is this what the title of number six really means? I always thought it was referring to Luke, and his becoming a Jedi being the beginning of the new Order, but is it really talking about Anakin and his redemption? Just a thought. Maybe it's obvious, and it's just taken me sixteen years to realize. But anyway. Enjoy, and goodbye for now!

* * *

**The Return of the Jedi**

"I'll have to help you this time," Obi-Wan said.

"Help me do what?"  
Obi-Wan tossed him a sidelong glance. "I spent twenty years learning how to do this, so don't feel bad that you don't know how."

"Don't know how to do what?"

"I learned from Qui-Gon himself, and _he _spent fourteen or so years learning, and he's teaching Master Yoda, who of course is picking it up quicker than any of us, and he's only been training for less than a year…."

Anakin crossed his arms, feeling faintly aggravated. "Master. Please. What is it you're going to help me do?"

"Hush, Anakin, there's no time. We're running a little late."

"Some things never change," Anakin muttered.

Obi-Wan shot him another look, but maintained a dignified silence. In another moment, they had joined Yoda, who was tapping his stick impatiently on the ground.

"Late, you are," he said. "Ready, he is."

"Not quite late," Obi-Wan said. "I've been explaining a few of the specifics to Anakin…"

"Actually, he hasn't explained anything," Anakin started to say, but Yoda interrupted him.

"No time for this, young Skywalker. Make haste, we must. Waiting for us, he will be. Appear first, I will. Follow, Obi-Wan will. Prepared, are you?"  
"Yes, Master."

Yoda nodded once, and a smile crept up his wrinkled, peaceful face. "Bright you are, Anakin Skywalker."

Anakin blinked, but before he could reply, Obi-Wan had gripped his shoulder. What felt like a warm breeze ruffled his hair, and a hand flew to his chest. Something was pulling at him; a pleasant, warm sensation, but compelling and impossible to ignore. "What is that?"

"Hush, there's no time. Master Yoda."

Anakin humphed in irritation, and Yoda was gone. A second later, Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder, and he too had vanished. Anakin waited.

Endor. Stars. Forest. Music. Fire.

Anakin blinked as his eyes adjusted to the new, strange light, and glanced down at the ground, trying to rid his eyes of the fire spots dancing in his vision. When he looked back up, there was Luke. An involuntary grin stretched across his face, and he looked down again, trying to compose himself. He met his son's eyes again, and recognized the love and acceptance in them. And then his daughter was there too, smiling, happy, tugging Luke away to the fires and music and dancing. As his son turned to leave, he looked back at Anakin and smiled again. There was something like a promise in his young face, and Anakin knew it as the same look that Padme had often given him. The one that meant love, forgiveness, and family.

Anakin watched his son until he had faded into the shadows and light around the campfires. Then he looked over at Obi-Wan; Yoda had gone. "How long has it been since I left?" he asked.

Obi-Wan shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. "Actually, they're celebrating the demise of the Empire."  
"Oh." Anakin reflected on this. That could certainly put a damper on his chances at joining the party. "They're celebrating my death."

"Well, yes."

Not sure how he felt about this, Anakin stared up into the stars, and the voice of a half-remembered little boy reverberated in his memory. _I'm going to be the first one to see them all! _

Well, he hadn't really seen them all. But that had been a childhood dream; an unachievable fantasy. A little bit of the darkness crept back into his heart. Was his redemption a fantasy too? A dream, a vision. Unattainable. Unreachable. Impossible.

"Or, no. Not really."

"What?"

Obi-Wan was watching him, the look on his face a little too understanding. The Jedi Master nodded at the celebrations. "They're not celebrating _your_ death. They're celebrating the death of Darth Vader."

"I was Darth Vader."

"Yes?" Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow in a _your-point-is? _gesture.

"So it's my death they're happy about."

"Do you really believe that?"

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but Obi-Wan cut him off. "Think about it before you answer. And in the meantime, let's go back."

He reached out and grasped Anakin's arm lightly, and Endor faded. But it didn't disappear, not completely. As Anakin blinked, trying to focus, a brilliant world opened up before him.

Oceans, lakes, rivers, forests, plains, deserts, mountains, beautiful cities, villages, sunsets, stars, suns, moons; wind on his face, the smell of salt and sand in his nose, and the soft sound of a living earth in his ears. Everything changing, moving, shifting, breathing…

"Do you see what I see?" Anakin breathed.

Obi-Wan laughed. "Of course. It's been here all the time, Anakin. This is the Force." He flung out his arms and threw back his head to catch an unseen wind. "This is everything. This is home!" He closed his eyes, a broad smile on his face. "I've been waiting a long time to share it with you."

"You'll have to share with me, too."

"Padme." Anakin turned, and she was there, reaching for him. He gathered her into his arms, feeling as if redemption wasn't impossible after all.

"You've been taking good care of him, I hope?" Padme asked over his shoulder. Obi-Wan laughed softly.

"Yes, my lady. The best of care."

"I thought you might. He's a good man, isn't he?"  
"One of the best," Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin pulled back, kissed Padme on the forehead, and then let her go. And then he walked away. Padme began to voice his name, but Obi-Wan's quiet murmur quieted her.

Anakin walked into the Force. It was a moment before he recognized his surroundings; the lush greenery and sparkling blue lakes of Naboo. Where he had spent some of the happiest days of his life. Padme's words entered his head again. _Do you want your guilt more than you want me? Do you love your pain more than all of this? _

And the answer was an overwhelming _no, _of course.

_Then why haven't I let it go?_

_Do you really believe that they are celebrating the death of Anakin Skywalker? _Obi-Wan's voice said in his mind. _Or have you still not separated _you _and Darth Vader?_

He searched for an answer, but came up with nothing. He felt no anger, no sadness, no bitterness, no hate. After living for so long with a constant variety of these emotions, the loss of them was a little disconcerting. But it wasn't unpleasant, and as he contemplated how he _did _feel—peaceful, happy, content, free—he wondered again why he insisted on clinging to feelings of guilt and shame.

And so he let them go.

It was that simple.

He stopped, turned, and focused on the bright, brilliant lights that were Padme Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. They were standing side by side, waiting for him.

He broke into a jog, and then a sprint.

His family was waiting.

_fin_


End file.
